


The Phantom of the Opry

by BadWolfRose (BadWolf1988)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, F/M, Fluffyish, Little bit of humor, Mythology References, Romance, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-10-23 08:40:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17680148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolf1988/pseuds/BadWolfRose
Summary: "There's a ghostly sound of steel guitarCrying in the nightDoes it come from center stageOr from somewhere on the other side?”





	1. PART I

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own 'Supernatural.' The show would have been canceled in its first season if I had anything to do with it. My penchant for happy endings would not have gone over well. The boys are miserable because of Erik Kripke ladies and gentlemen.
> 
> Disclaimer II: I do not own the song 'The Phantom of the Opry.'

_“Around midnight_

_A shadow appears on center stage_

_And sings a haunting melody_

_While a distant fiddle plays...”_

“Uh, Sammy? Since when do you listen to heehaw music?”

“Since the Grand Ole Opry's haunting went from legend to deadly. Garth sent me this.” Sam passed a stack of newspaper clippings across the bunker's library table.

“Am I reading this right?” Dean looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Three country singers have frozen to death at the Grand Ole Opry? How cold does it get in Nashville anyway?”

“Not that cold,” Sam shook his head. “Plus, they were all indoors in the same dressing room...in July.”

A childish smirk came to Dean's face. “You know that this means, Sammy?”

“You get to wear your cowboy boots.” Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean nodded with a grin. “I get to wear my cowboy boots.” He slapped his thigh. “Yeehaw lets hit the road.”

*****

Kansas to Tennessee was a drive that could be made in a day with the way Dean drove and that's exactly how long it took them to get to Nashville.

The brothers arrive in the capital of country music in the middle of a typical southern July heatwave. When they pulled up to the Grand Ole Opry it was three in the afternoon. The hottest part of the day. And they were wearing cheap, heavy suits as they posed as FBI agents for what was probably the millionth and a half time.

“Who discovered the last victim, Dylan Westley?” Dean was pulling on the collar of his suit as he questioned the Opry manager. Sam elbowed him in the ribs to stop him.

“The curator of the Opry museum, Heaven Meadows. She should be in either her office or the museum artifact archive.”

“What was the curator doing in the dressing room? Is that normal behavior for her,” Sam asked.

“With Dylan, it was,” the middle-aged manager replied. “They were cousins. It was Heaven who got him his first set at the Opry.”

“So they were close?” Sam, ever the boy scout, was taking notes.

“Dylan's parents died in a plane crash when he was a youngin. Heaven's momma and daddy took him in. Those two were more like siblings than cousins if you ask me. Heaven's been all out of sorts since it happened.”

*****

Dean knocked on the closed door of the curator's office. “You know this woman is probably a dog, right? Women with misleading names like Heaven and Cherry usually are.”

“Dude, sexist much?” Sam gave him the side eye.

The door opened and Dean was immediately forced to eat his words. The woman who answered the door was in her late twenties or early thirties. She had curly blonde hair, emerald green eyes, and curves in all the right places.

“You were saying,” Sam smirked and whispered under his breath.

“Shut up.” This time Dean elbowed Sam.

“Can I help y'all?” Heaven had a sweet, tiny, southern accent laced voice and although her eyes were the most beautiful that Dean had ever seen they were also swollen and a little red. Her makeup wasn't capable of completely hiding her grief.

“Agents Snyder and Cooper.” Dean showed her his badge. Sam followed his lead. “We were hoping we could ask you a few questions about the death of your cousin.”

“But only if you feel up to it,” Sam rushed to add. Dean had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, sure, come on it.” Heaven stepped aside and held the door open for the men as they entered the nice but modestly decorated office. “Why's the FBI looking into Dylan's death? I thought it was a freak cooling system accident like what happened to Charlie and Brent.”

Freak cooling system accident? Was that really how the local authorities were trying to explain this one away?

“Three strange accidental deaths so close together at a National Landmark and the FBI likes to take a closer look,” Sam lied smoothly. Dean, as per usual, was silently impressed. He had no idea the Opry was a National Landmark. “And pardon me if I sound rude but what are you still doing here even if Dylan's death was just a freak cooling system accident? Aren't you worried for your safety?”

Heaven gave him a look that could only be described as patronizing. “Because Dylan and the others died in the Grand Ole Opry House. This is the Ryman Auditorium, the original Opry house. We only hold shows here three months out of the year. The rest of the time we're just a National Landmark and museum. The new Grand Ole Opry House is next to the Briley Parkway, about nine or ten miles east of downtown.”

Dean was going to have so much fun picking on Sam about not doing his research later.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Sam fumbled. “We're from the Kansas field office. Not used to Nashville.”

Dean really wanted to laugh at his little brother's obvious discomfort but he behaved himself.

“You don't have access to case files in Kansas? Wouldn't those have the addresses of crime scenes?” Heaven looked at him doubtfully. “Why come all the way from Kansas? Y'all have offices in both Memphis and Knoxville.”

So, cute and smart...and totally about to blow their cover. Watching Sammy squirm had been fun but it was time for Dean to step in. “Kansas doesn't have the same kind of case backlog as Tennessee so we pick up a lot of the routine for our larger field offices. We honestly were only sent the case notes before we got here and are guilty of assuming. We didn't know that there were two orpys. I apologize.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a phony but convincing business card. The number on the card would connect to one of Garth's burner phones. “This is the name and number of our supervisor if you wanna check us out.”

Heaven took the card and gave it a brief glance before giving him a little half smile that didn't reach her eyes. “That won't be necessary. I'm still pretty out of sorts about Dylan and I've probably seen more episodes of  _Criminal Minds_  and  _NCIS_  than is probably healthy.”

“Since we don't have the case file yet, would you mind walking us through what happened the night you found Dylan?” Sam had his notepad at the ready.

Heaven closed her eyes and gritted her teeth for a moment before she began to speak. “It was a broadcast night, the weekly radio show is the longest running in America. Dylan was about to release his debut album and had a set that night. He'd been at the Opry house all day rehearsing. I stopped by about an hour before the show was supposed to start. I was bringing him some of my momma's mint sweet iced tea. It was pre-show tradition and the mint soothed his throat. I opened the dressing room door when he didn't answer. He was sitting upright in the makeup chair and his eyes were still open. He looked terrified. When I touche him he was colder than ice. I've never felt anything so cold in my entire life. It wasn't a natural cold.”

“Was the dressing room also cold, did it have any odd smells?” Dean asked.

“That's what was weird. We've had a pretty hot summer and the opry's A/C has been havin' a real hard time keeping up with the heat. It was a little too warm and humid in that dressing room to be considered comfortable. Dylan was the only cold thing in the room and the only thing I smelled was Dylan's Stetson cologne.” Heaven shook her head. “How is that a cooling accident? Shouldn't I at least have smelled the A/C coolant liquid if it malfunctioned? The damn thing was barely on!”

Oh yeah. Heaven was one of those too-smart-for-her-own-good kind of people. She was going to be trouble.

“We'll figure out what happened. You have our word,” Sam promised sincerely.

Heaven walked to her desk and picked up a file folder. “If you want, I can show you where the new Opry house is. I have to drive out there to authenticate some donations that were dropped off there by mistake anyway.”

“We'll follow you,” Dean nodded with a friendly smile.

*****

“No, Dean, down boy,” Sam admonished as the two parted company with Heaven and got in the Impala.

Dean gave him a dirty look as he started the car's ignition. “I'm not a dog who just ran off with the dinner steak. Don't treat me like one.”

“I'm not,” Sam shook his head. “I'm treating you like a dog who keeps trying to hump the cute new neighbor girl's leg. That woman's just gone through hell. She doesn't need you taking her for a ride.”

Dean smirked. “Women tend to enjoy the rides I take them on, Sammy.”

“You're a pig.”

*****

It was Heaven who showed the brothers to the dressing room where her cousin had died once they reached the Grand Ole Opry House. She didn't enter, instead waiting outside the door. Dean waited with her while Sam went inside and poked around.

“So, what kind of donations are you here to look at?” Dean tried to make conversation.

“The manager here told me that whoever dropped off the boxes was here on behalf of John Carter Cash so I'm crossing my fingers for some Johnny and June memorabilia. It's the hardest for us to get our hands on.”

Dean was hit by a sudden suspicion. “Had the museum put out any new memorabilia here at this opry house prior to Brent Cole's death?” Cole had been the first human popsicle.

Heaven shook her head. “We put up more photographs here than anything else. Memorabilia stays at the Ryman. It's how we keep both oprys' profitable. Only thing you'll find here is knock-offs and reprints in the gift shop.”

Okay. It probably wasn't a haunted artifact then. Dean went in another direction. “Your cousin's song, 'Phantom of the Opry', is any of it true?”

“I think so,” Heaven nodded. “People have been seeing and hearing things that can't be explained over at the Ryman since at least the late 1950s, myself included.” The woman admitted to believing in ghosts with no fear of being judged. Dean liked her.

The haunting was at the wrong opry house. Strike two. “What do you see and hear over there?” Now Dean was just curious. If whatever was haunting the Ryman had been there for decades without alarming any humans, chances were high that it was harmless. Those were the kind of ghosts that he liked.

“Just what the song says,” Heaven took her phone out of her back pocket. She went to her music player and played the song, but only after skipping to the second verse.

_“Some say it's Hank or Lefty_

_Or that Kentucky Bluebird flying back again_

_No one knows for certain_

_But we all know it's more than just the wind._

 

_There's a ghostly sound of steel guitar_

_Crying in the night_

_Does it come from center stage_

_Or from somewhere on the other side?”_

Heaven hit the stop button on her phone. “That's what I'm used to hearing when I work late. The sound of a steel guitar playing from the stage but any time I get too close the music stops.” She smiled and it was the first true smile that Dean had seen on her face since they met. “Is it weird that I find it comforting? It makes me feel safe when I'm alone working late. It's like I know Hank's there looking out for me. I'm completely insane.” She laughed.

“No, you're not,” Dean shook his head. “There's nothing wrong with being open to the supernatural. You're open-minded. You think it's Hank Williams, Sr. huh?”

“People starting hearing the music in the 50's right after he died and he was known for being one of the first country artists to use the steel guitar. It fits.” Heaven shrugged.

Dean nodded as Sam exited the dressing room. Over Heaven's shoulder, Sam held up a plastic bag containing something that Dean couldn't really see and gave him a look telling him that they needed to go.

“When's the next time you're working late? I'm gonna have to stop by to hear Hank before I leave town.” Dean ignored Sam and directed his question towards Heaven. He wanted to see her again...and not just between the sheets, although, he'd admit, he'd love to spend some time with her there too. It was friggin' weird.

“Probably tonight so I can catalog all this new stuff.”

“You mind if I stop by?” Dean gave her his most charming smile and Sam stood there giving him a dude-what-the-hell look/

Heaven shrugged. “Sure.”

*****

“Dude, when has hooking up on a case ever worked out for either one of us?” Sam once again started in on him once they were back in the car.

“Mind your business, Sammy,” Dean blew him off. “You find something?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I did.” He held up the plastic bag, its contents a shiny purple and so small that they were hard to discern. “Snake scales.”

“Snake scales?” Dean raised an eyebrow. “In the Grand Ole Opry House?”

“Yeah, I know. It's weird.” Sam conceded. He held the bag up to the sunlight. “You ever seen snake scales so shiny before?”

*****

Dean had left Sam to his research and departed their motel for the Ryman right after dark. Figuring he'd be nice, he stopped and picked up a bag of sliders and onion rings from White Castle on his way.

“So,” Heaven said as they both sat cross-legged on the Ryman stage eating. “Are you this nice to all of your witnesses or just the ones you want to get in the sack?”

Dean choked on his onion ring making Heaven laugh. He glared at her. “I'm honestly not trying to get you in the sack. I just like you.”

“Good,” she smiled at him as she popped an onion ring into her mouth. “My momma warned me about jumpin' into bed with handsome strangers.”

Suddenly, Dean heard the telltale sound of a steel guitar coming from the direction of the backstage area.

Heaven smirked. “Hank's saying 'hi.'”

Dean had an idea and jumped to his feet. “Dance with me,” he held out his hand to her.

“One one condition,” she held up her right index finger.

“Name it, beautiful.”

“If I dance with you, you have to tell me who you and Sam really are and what you're really doing in Nashville.”

Yep. He'd had her pegged from the word go. Smart and beautiful and, apparently, not fooled by fake badges and cheap suits.

“Deal,” Dean smirked and nodded. He wiggled the fingers of his still outstretched hand. “Now hurry up before ol' Hank leaves.”

Heaven laughed and gave him her hand, letting him pull her to her feet. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her to him so that he could wrap his arms around her waist and she could wrap hers around his neck.

“Okay, who are you, really?” She asked as they started to sway back and forth softly, the guitar playing a soft tune in the background.

“My name's Dean Winchester. Sam's my little brother,” he admitted. “We travel around investigating and dealing with supernatural...problems.” It sounded lame but it was a hell of a lot better than telling her, 'I kill evil shit.'

“You're here because you think what happened to Dylan and the others was supernatural,” Heaven guessed, some of her blonde hair falling in her face.

Dean reached up and brushed her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, we do.”

“What do you think did it?”

“No idea,” he shook his head. “Sam and I've never seen anything like this before. We're trying to figure it out.”

Heaven stopped dancing and Dean followed her lead. “Do you have any clues?”

“Some weird snake scales that Sam found in the dressing room. He's researching it as we speak.”

“I don't know what to say right now,” Heaven ran a hand over her face.

“You seem to be taking this whole the supernatural is real thing pretty well.” She hadn't laughed at him, called him a liar, or suggested that he seek help for his mental health. Those were most peoples' go-to's.

Heaven just gave him a weird look. “Dean, we're being serenaded by a ghost right now...and you didn't see Dylan, I did. Nothing human could have done that to him.”

She had a point. He'd seen the autopsy photos. Dylan hadn't been left looking very pretty and Dean was sure the sight must have been worse in person. He pulled her a little closer and her arms went back around his neck. “We'll get whatever did it, I promise.” He leaned down slowly, giving her time to pull away, before softly kissing her.

Their lips had barely met when Dean's phone started playing 'Smoke On The Water.' He pulled back reluctantly. “Damn it,” he swore, taking his phone out of his back pocket. It was Sam. “What? I'm a little busy right now.”

“Well, stop mauling Heaven and get your ass back here. Medusa's loose in the Grand Ole Opry House.”

Dean paused for a moment. “Could you repeat that?”

*****

Heaven insisted on riding back to the motel with him. After she overheard Sam's phone call he really didn't see any way of stopping her...and he really didn't want to anyway. For the first time in a long time, Dean would admit that he was hard up for a woman.

When they arrived at the Nashville Motor Lodge, Sam had given him a what-the-hell look when he walked in the door with Heaven.

“Seriously, Dean?”

Dean shrugged. “She's smart. She figured it out on her own.” Mostly. He only helped a little.

Sam just rolled his eyes before smiling at Heaven. “Good to see you again under more honest circumstances.”

Heaven nodded and gave him a half-hearted smile.

“The Medusa thing,” Dean prompted.

“Right,” Sam turned back towards his laptop. “The scales I found in the dressing room are a match for the descriptions of Medusa's head of snakes in ancient Greek lore.”

“Shouldn't Medusa be, ya know, in Greece?” Heaven asked.

“You'd be surprised how many gods, demons, and angels show up in the places they shouldn't be,” Dean replied dryly.

“But Medusa turns people to stone, she doesn't freeze them to death,” Heaven shook her head. “I took a Greek mythology course in college and I remember that much.”

“In most known lore, that's true,” Sam nodded. “But I got in touch with Cas – “

“Cas?” Heaven looked at Dean.

“Helpful but socially awkward rogue angel in a trench-coat,” Dean replied. “I'll explain everything you don't understand later, swear.”

“Anyway, Cas was able to zip by the bunker and he found an old text that was written by someone who witnessed Medusa kill. She's attracted to men who are powerful, popular, poised for greatness, etc. When men reject her, her hair turns into shiny purple snakes. The snakes' glare freezes a person from the inside out.”

“So there's no cursed object or possession?” Dean looked at Sam in frustration. “There's a crazy, code-red level clinger with a head full of snakes walking around Nashville?”

“More like the Grand Ole Opry House,” Sam corrected. “It seems to be her new hunting ground. The last time she popped up was in London's West End thirty years ago. She took out half the male actors in a production of Hamlet.”

“Mariah,” Heaven looked at Dean with wide eyes. “She works in the box office. She seemed to really take a shine to Dylan but he wasn't interested. She started working there – “

“Right before the first cooling system accident,” Dean finished for her. “How do we kill the bitch?”

“Dean, she's been around since the heyday of ancient Greece. I'm not sure she can be killed.” Sam shook his head.

“Everything can die. We just got to figure out what trigger to pull.”

*****

In the end, it was decided that Sam would stay in Nashville and keep an eye on Mariah/Medusa with Garth and Cas showing up for back up. Dean and Heaven headed to Kansas to do some research in the bunker library and archives.

“Won't you get in trouble for missing work?” Dean asked as he drove and she sat back with her bare feet on the dashboard. She was probably the only person on earth that he would let get with that kind of behavior in his baby.

Heaven laughed. “I have a master's in World History and a B.A. in museum curation. I only work at the Ryman because jobs in my field are scarce. You take what you can get. It's not like the London Museum is blowing up my phone to offer me a job. I don't need the money, I just like having something to do with my time.”

Dean reached over and pulled her across the bucket seat to curl against his side. He had one arm around her and one hand on the wheel. “If that's the case, maybe you should think about joining the team. It'd be good to have someone as smart as you helping out with research.” This was his half-assed way of trying to tell her that he was halfway in love with her and liked having her around.

“Is my brain the only reason you wanna keep me around?” Heaven teased him, her breath tickling the side of his face.

Dean turned his head and quickly kissed her before returning his eyes to the road. “No,” he smirked.

*****

“Alright, so the myth about showing Medusa her own reflection is just that, a myth.” Heaven was seated cross-legged on top of the bunker's library table with an old book (all in Greek) that she was skimming through. “According to this showing her her own reflection only serves to really piss her off.”

“The knife will work, squirrel.”

Heaven jumped and Dean had to catch her before she went tumbling off the table. He glared at the doorway where Crowley now stood smirking. Dean helped Heaven climb off the table. “Knock next time, douche-bag.”

“Dean..?” Heaven was looking at him expectantly.

“Heaven, this is Crowley, King of Hell, only helpful when he wants to be, and an all-around bag of dicks.”

“Pleasure,” smirk still firmly in place, Crowley nodded at Heaven.

Heaven just nodded at him in return. She seemed to be stuck somewhere between confusion and terrified.

“You're safe, babe,” Dean shook his head. “He can't touch you in here.”

“As if I'd want to harm the bint,” Crowley snorted before shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “I'd simply heard that one of the Winchesters had found their soul mates and I had to see it for myself.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“What he said,” Heaven finally spoke up, nodding at Dean.

Crowley looked shocked for a moment before he chuckled. “You don't know...which means the two of you haven't sealed the deal yet. Dean, you're slipping, my friend.”

“Crowley, you gonna explain or not?”

“Not,” the King of Hell shook his head. “This one seems like it will be more fun for me to watch play out. As I said, demon knife will kill Medusa, nasty tart that she is. I dated her briefly in the 19th century. She's too crazy, even for a mistress of evil.” The demon departed in a cloud of black smoke.

Dean and Heaven stood in silence for a few moments.

“Dean?” Heaven finally spoke.

“Yeah, babe?”

“Is that kind of thing normal around here?”

“Pretty normal, yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?” He hoped she didn't ask about the soul mate thing because he had zero clue what Crowley was talking about.

“You should call Sam and tell him we know how to kill Medusa. Isn't the demon knife the one he carries?”

“Shit, yeah.” This is why Heaven was the smart one. Dean had momentarily forgotten all about the hunt. She laughed at him as he took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed his brother's number. “Sammy, demon knife will kill the bitch. Long story but the short version is that Crowley used to hit that. We'll start heading back your way now. … You sure? … Alright, man, see ya.” He hung up the phone and turning toward Heaven, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Sam says we don't need to hurry back, that him, Cas, and Garth can handle it. What do you want to do?” He was leering at her suggestively.

Heaven leaned her head back to look at him. “I want to back to Nashville.”

“Oh,” Dean started to pull back from her.

Heaven wrapped her arms around his waist to keep him where he was so she could explain. “That bitch killed my cousin. I wanna be there when she bites it. I need to be there.”

Dean kissed her forehead. “I can understand that.”

“I should also quit my job and tell my folks that I'm leaving town if you were really serious about me joining the team,” she smirked at him.

Dean smiled and reached up and cupped her cheek. “Hell yeah, that offer's still open.” He pulled her closer and kissed her like he was Tom Hanks in a 90's rom-com.

*****

They were just outside of Nashville when Heaven finally brought up the soul mate thing. “Dean? What do you think Crowley was talking about back at the bunker?”

Dean reached across the seat and took her hand. “I'm not sure but I doubt it's anything bad. We can ask Cas when we see him. If he doesn't know, we've always got the bunker and Google.”

Heaven squeezed his hand and dropped the subject.

*****

When they arrived back at the motel that evening, it was to find Sam and Garth arming up while Cas...sat on the edge of one of the queen beds watching reruns of ' _Touched By An Angel_.' “So many inaccuracies,” the real angel was shaking his head.

“What's going on?” Dean demanded to know.

“Brantley Gilbert turned Mariah down this morning because he's married,” Garth explained. “She's not taking it well.”

“Shit,” Heaven cursed. “Tonight's a show night.”

Dean understood immediately. “Charlie, Brent, and Dylan all died on show nights.”

“Yep, and Gilbert's headlining tonight,” Sam stowed the demon knife inside his jean jacket. “We gotta move. Cas lets go.”

Cas shut off the TV and casually followed Sam and Garth out like they were headed out for a day of shopping, not a monster hunt.

“Dean, give me a gun,” Heaven turned to him and demanded.

“What? No! A gun won't stop this bitch and I don't have the time to teach you how to use one.” He shook his head no.

Heaven put a hand on her hip. “A gun could at least slow the bitch down and I'm a country girl. I've been a card-carrying member of the NRA since I was eighteen and I have a permit to carry concealed, you sexist ass.”

Now, Dean was sure he was all the way in love with her. He wondered if the soul mate thing had anything to do with why he thought she was perfect or if he thought she was perfect because she was his soul mate. Either way, he handed over her spare .45 without a word but with a kiss of apology.

*****

“Shit,” Dean cursed as he took cover with Sam and Garth in the opry's camera pit just off the stage. Medusa's head full of snakes was out to play and they only had twenty minutes before the audience came in to take their seats.

“Sam, give me the knife,” Cas was shivering as he reached his hand down to the put from the stage. Medusa couldn't kill him but she could render him almost useless. The angel was turning a pale shade of blue and he had ice coating his hair.

Sam handed over the knife to Cas.

“Heaven!” Cas called and used what little strength he had left to toss her the knife.

“Cas! What the hell, man?!” Dean went to get out of the pit but Sam and Garth pulled him back for his own good.

“The snakes' glare can't hurt her,” Cas said as he collapsed, shivering onto the stage.

“Hey! Frosty the snow bitch! Why don't you try that shit on a real woman?!”

Dean could hear Heaven taunting Medusa and then the sound of a high-pitched, deathly scream and a loud thump.

“It's safe!” Heaven called.

Dean was at her side a moment later. “Babe, you okay?” He held her at arm's length with his hands on her hips as he checked her over for injuries.

Heaven laughed. “I'm fine...she's not though,” she nodded towards the pile of dust on the floor that Dean assumed was all that remained of Medusa.

“How?” That was all Sam said when he and Garth joined them on the stage.

“I remember something,” Heaven didn't leave Dean's arms. “All the true accounts of Medusa killing men were written by women. That means that they saw the snakes and lived to write about it. Medusa's powers only worked on men.:

“Good job, baby doll,” Garth nodded approvingly.

Dean gave Garth a glare of warning. “Watch who you're calling baby doll.”

“Uh, guys?” Heaven interrupted. She pulled out of Dean's arms and went and knelt beside a very blue and very cold Cas. “I think we should get going so we can defrost Cas.”

*****

The topic of soul mates didn't rear its head again until a month later once Heaven was settled in at the bunker.

Heaven had opted for her own room because, as she said, she wasn't easy. For some reason, this made Dean love her even more. Not that she didn't give him plenty of reasons to love her. On top of being uber smart, Heaven made the bunker feel like more a home than a base of operations. Not only did she do killer research but she was a natural mother hen. Her first two days at the bunker she helped defrost and nurse Cas back to health. She also was appalled at the overflow in the laundry room and promptly set about a mission that scared even Sam and Dean. And, boy, could the woman cook. When it came to her culinary skills, Heaven was a southern cliché. Dean never pointed that out for fear of losing out on her fried chicken, greens, and sweet potato pie.

It was while Heaven stood at the kitchen counter making a spinach salad that Cas suddenly appeared beside her. Dean had been coming to grab a beer and the angel managed to startle him. Cas hadn't been back to the bunker since he had defrosted.

“Hey, Cas, what's up?” Heaven asked as sprinkled a little vinegar into the salad bowl.

“I remembered something that I meant to inform you of before I was attacked by Medusa,” the angel said in that monotone, business-like way of his.

“And what's that, Cas?” Dean grabbed a beer, popped the top, and went and leaned on the counter beside his girlfriend.

“You and Heaven are soul mates.” Again, Cas spoke like he was simply giving the weather report. “It's rare for humans to find their other halves these days. I blame overpopulation and the continents breaking up and scattering.”

Dean choked on the sip of beer that he had just taken and Heaven thumped him on the back, “Thanks, babe,” he managed to rasp out of his now sore throat.

“Cas,” Heaven ran a hand through her hair “what does being soul mates mean exactly?”

“Well, it means that you're pretty much perfect for each other. Your strengths balance out each other's weaknesses,” Cas droned on. “Once you have sex, you'll be bound to one another for life. You won't be able to have other partners or leave one another for too long. It's like being married, just stronger and more permanent.”

“Ar...are you sure?” Dean tripped a bit over his words.

“Both of you heard Apollo's music at the Opry house, correct?”

Dean and Heaven shared a look before they both said the exact same thing. “Hank?”

Cas shook his head. “Hank Williams, Sr. is in Heaven. Door 0655 if I'm not mistaken. No, Apollo's just taken a liking to the Opry house the last few decades. Before that, I believe he was in Paris for about a century until some rumors started about the opera house where he lived. Only soul mates or those destined to find them can hear Apollo's music.”

“Apollo's both a god of music and one of the lesser known gods of love in Greek mythology,” Heaven mumbled to herself. She sounded very much like she swallowed a textbook.

“I'm cool with it,” Dean blurted out. Cas had just given him confirmation that the woman he was in love with was the one woman who had been created just for him. Why would he be upset about that? Why wouldn't he want her?

“You'd be stuck with me for life,” Heaven pointed out. “You heard what he said, Dean.”

“So?” Dean chuckled huskily. “I love you. Why would I be upset about spending my life with you?”

“It's more like forever. You'll spend your afterlife together too,” Cas interrupted the moment.

“Cas, leave,” Heaven ordered, never taking her watery eyes off Dean. Once Cas was gone, she asked, “you love me?”

Dean just nodded with a smile as he set his beer on the counter and pulled her into his arms.

“I love you too,” Heaven wound her arms around his neck.

Dean leaned down and softly kissed her. “How about we head to my room and seal the whole soul mate deal? What do you say, baby?”

“Yes,” Heaven leaned up for another kiss.

 

 

_** TBC ** _

 


	2. PART II

“Heaven, baby, are you really sure that you want to do this?” Dean had his literal soul mate naked in his bed and he wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything else in his life. But he couldn't cross this final line unless she was completely sure of her decision. “You really want to be mine...forever? There's no take backs here, sweetheart.”

Heaven rolled her eyes. “Dean, you know me well enough by now to know that I don't do anything that I don't want to do.” She ran her hand up his bare chest. “I love you, Dean Winchester, with everything that I am. No other man has ever affected me the way that you do.” She lightly dragged her fingernails down his chest and Dean had to bite his lip and count to ten. “I wanna spend forever with you if you wanna spend forever with me. If you're not sure about this yet we can stop.”

She had gotten the totally wrong idea. Dean gave a husky chuckle. “Heaven, you're my entire fucking world, baby,” he assured her as his talented hands began to explore her body. “You, Sammy, Cas, and to a much lesser extent, Garth, the four of you are my family.” He found her breasts and began to knead them as he spoke, using his thumbs to massage her rock hard nipples. “You're my partner, sweetheart, in pretty much everything but bed since you got here. You love my brother like he was your own. You help me look out for Cas and you even tolerate Garth. This crew needed a woman's touch and you stepped up when you didn't have to. We're not your responsibility. I love you, Heaven and I want you as my soul mate, my best friend, my lover, my wife, and the mother of my children.”

“Wife? Mother?” Heaven went completely stiff beneath him. Wife and mother. Those were two titles that they had never ever discussed her wearing. 

Dean moved one hand down between her legs and began to gently finger her as he looked down on her beautiful face. “I don't want to fill the bunker but a couple of kids would be nice.” He leaned down and gently kissed her. “I've gotten to the point where I realize that I can hunt and have a family. Raising hunters isn't a bad thing like I thought it was. The world needs people like us.” He started to move his fingers faster. “But I only want kids if you're their mom. Can I make love to you without a rubber, baby?”

Dean's hand was still at work and Heaven was withering beneath him. “On one condition,” she moaned, clearly close to falling off the edge. 

“Name it, baby,” Dean withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips so he could taste her. Heaven moaned at the sight.

“You have to take me to the courthouse tomorrow and make me a Winchester...and you have to get inside me right now!”

“Fucking deal,” Dean rushed to obey her orders.

Dean took his time. He wasn't fucking her. He wasn't rushed. He was making love to her. When they both reached their peaks, Dean was sure they had been enveloped by a soft white light while Apollo's music drifted through the air.

 

 

  
_**FINIS** _

**Author's Note:**

> Part II will be shorter and very M rated. 


End file.
